


Only Human

by LeChatRouge673



Series: Canon Verse Stories and Wanderings [9]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 10:48:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18636625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeChatRouge673/pseuds/LeChatRouge673





	Only Human

He did not really understand why he was ever given cooking responsibilities. It was not that Loghain did not know _how_ to cook; of course he did. Nothing particularly elaborate or complicated, but then, life on the road never required such. A lack of knowledge or serviceable skill was not the problem, nor was his willingness to help. In fact, he had offered several times to do literally any of the other chores around their camp so that he would actually feel as though he were doing something useful.

Because, at the end of the day, half their party refused to eat anything he would make anyways. Cataline and Leliana always did, and offered a polite thanks for his efforts. It was fifty/fifty whether Morrigan or Zevran would deign to partake, and Oghren and Wynne flat out refused. Sten would accept the meal, but never seemed terribly happy about it. Shale, thank the Maker, did not eat at all and therefore had no opinion whatsoever, as she surely would not have spared him of it if she had. Brutus seemed happy with whatever scraps got tossed his way, and Loghain was grateful that the mabari, at least, seemed to appreciate his efforts. And, of course-

“Here, try dusting it with this.”

Theadosia reached around him, her body brushing agonizingly close to his as she sprinkled some sort of aromatic herb over the game hens he had snared earlier in the day. Hunting gave him something to do away from the main camp on the occasions he was not called to accompany the warden on her errands, thought recently that desire for distance had diminished. Largely because of the woman who was even now sniffing slightly at the roasting poultry, her delicate features pulled into a slight frown as she considered.

“What in the world is that?” Loghain asked her, taking the jar from her hand and giving it an inhale of his own. Whatever it was, it smelled amazing: rich and heady and exotic. Somehow, though, it was not nearly as dizzying as the more subtle scent of lavender that clung to Theadosia’s skin.

“A spice blend from Rivain,” she replied, accepting the jar back and re-sealing it. “I bought it off that pirate woman in The Pearl back in Denerim. To be honest, I’ve not the slightest idea what is in it, but damned if it does not add a little kick to things.”

Loghain nearly tripped over his own words. “What exactly were you doing in The Pearl?”

She raised a single graceful eyebrow in his direction, and he shook his head. “No, you’re right, it is not my concern.”

To his relief, Theadosia just rolled her eyes good-naturedly, taking the spoon from him and stirring the vegetables roasting in a pan beneath the hens, soaking in the drippings from the meat. “It’s fine, Loghain, I do not mine you asking. Mind, you are the only one who I would probably allow to get away with it.” She shrugged, tapping the wooden spoon absently against the pan. “Unfortunately, the answer is rather boring.” She glanced at him sideways, a small half smile playing across her lips. “This time, at least. I was, in fact, simply looking for Cat. I had heard a rumor she had passed through that way, and sure enough Isabela _had_ seen her, but by that time Cat had moved on. Bela thought she was likely to come back to the city though, so I decided to bide my time there. Seemed more effective than desperately trying to chase rumors and shadow.”

“Sensible,” he agreed, turning the spit slowly, trying to ignore the wave of relief that washed over him as well as the growing look of muted amusement in Theadosia’s storm blue eyes.

“What? Do you truly think I cannot be trusted in a fine establishment such as The Pearl?” She asked, mock innocence lacing her tone.

Loghain sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That is _not_ what I said, Theadosia,” he replied. “I- I simply…”

She gave a small hum of laughter before putting him out of his misery. “Loghain, I promise you, if I were to have been bedding anyone in the capitol, it would not have been one of the lovely and talented employees of The Pearl. Not when there were much more… appealing… options.”

“You don’t say.” Loghain studied her for a moment, but she seemed engrossed with the cooking. The embers reflected the sparks in her eyes, and if he did not know any better, he would swear there was the faintest rise of color in her cheeks. “I should not be surprised, I suppose. A woman of your status, intelligence, and talents would be in high demand. I imagine you could have had nearly any eligble man or woman at your beck and call, and probably no small number of the _in_ eligible ones.”

Theadosia’s smile broadened slightly at that. “What, not a single mention of my appearance? Really, Loghain, you have to have spent enough time at court to know how easily women are flattered by such things.”

“Lesser women, perhaps,” he agreed. “However, I did not think you would be so easily swayed by such mundane compliments. I am not certain my simple words would do justice to your beauty, Theadosia, though I would be willing to try if that would soothe your ego.”

She really did laugh then, brightly and truly. It was such a rare occurrence, and one Loghain found himself treasuring more than he likely had any right to. Theadosia handed him the knife to begin carving the birds, her fingers brushing against his hand as she did so.

“I cannot tell if you are trying to insult me or compliment me, Loghain Mac Tir. I am not used to someone who can actually keep me on my toes like this.”

“Well,” he offered uncertainly, “Which would you prefer?”

Theadosia faced him, her gaze searching his own for something; something he was nearly afraid she would find. “I am only human, Loghain,” she replied softly, her eyes darting ever so briefly to his lips before they returned to his own. “Even I am not immune to kind words, especially when they were once given so sparingly. But only speak what you mean; do not do either of us the discourtesy of meaningless words.”

In the quiet stillness of the camp, with only the crackling of the campfires and the muted conversations of the others to break the silence, Loghain could almost swear he heard the quickening beat of his own heart. He was not certain where Theadosia was going with any of this; if she was simply showing him a kindness he did not deserve or if there was some Maker-blessed possibility she actually, impossibly, cared for him.

Because Maker only knew he had grown to care for her.

“Never, Theadosia,” he promised.

“You have my word.”

 

 


End file.
